


How To Improve Already Perfect Lives

by Merkey666



Series: Bandit au [1]
Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Adoption, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Life, Very Chill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 09:08:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merkey666/pseuds/Merkey666
Summary: Frank and Gerard have been married for a while now, and they seem to be getting bored with their marriage. Up until Frank has an epiphany and decides what they need is a child. Well...





	How To Improve Already Perfect Lives

**Author's Note:**

> I have no higher brain function I'm so tired
> 
> Gerard: There's only one thing a married couple needs in this life
> 
> Frank: A child
> 
> Gerard: no

Domestic Drabble

There wasn't much light in the room, aside from a small night light, shining like a little star in the abyss of space. Frank rolled over, weightless, pressed between the icy sheets. His head had absconded his pillow, and the bare mattress made his neck feel funny. He felt like he was laying on nothing at all. 

No sounds. No warmth. No grounding. His bed was empty. 

Little fingers feeling around the silken sheets found nothing but a lukewarm space where a body used to be. A grumble fell down upon the space, reminding Frank’s drunken and dreamy mind that he wasn't in space and like a collision of two cars, Frank opened his eyes. 

The was writing on the walls that kept disappearing every time he blinked, yet he could still read it better with his eyes shut, almost like it was urging him to do so. There was a cool breeze, washed out by a warm buzzing sound coming from the far expanses of Frank’s small universe. But even as his mind remembered where he was and what his life was like, he could still feel the duvet dipping down over him and laying flat when it should've been diving over another body. 

Frank wasn't ready to get up, but he was too lonely to stay. Even though the sun hadn't risen, with the opening of his bedroom door, light poured in upon the dim space like the sun welcoming another day. And just as suddenly as the star wasn't alone, Frank wasn't alone either. 

There was a body in the kitchen, and of Frank's eyes weren't deceiving him, the body wasn't dead, which was always a good start. The body looked up, hazel eyes gleaming at the other boy and then Frank was the whole nine yards. 

“Did I wake you?” Gerard asked, scooting his half drunk coffee mug over to Frank. 

He sniffed and accepted the cup. He didn't appreciate being woken up early, much less on a weekend, but he had all the time in the world. Tour was off the chopping block, and so Frank reluctantly settled back into being a stay at home husband, which was low on his bucket list, if it even got a spot. 

“You always wake me up,” he grumbled, sitting down at the small table across from him. Gerard stifled a laugh, still going over some crumpled pieces of paper that could either have been sketches or lyrics. As much as Frank supported him as an artist, it generally left him in the dark. 

“I don't try to,” Gerard mumbled, holding out his hand for the coffee mug that Frank was nursing. Frank downed it, starring Gerard down. Gerard sighed and dropped his hand, shaking his head. Gerard's eyes chased his pencil, which was scribbling all over the crumpled sheet. From his position, Frank still couldn't tell what exactly he was doing, but from the lack of conversation, the probability it was a drawing outweighed any other options. 

“What’re you doing?” he asked, the caffeine blustering through his body at the rate of the chilly wind outside. As his eyes opened more and stopped watering from the chill in the air, his spirits rose. He’d almost forgotten the empty feeling of his bed and how cold the house was.

Frank took a wild stab. “What’re you drawing?” 

“Something.” The coffee machine buzzed and a small stream of black liquid came spilling out, which accounted for Gerard less than caring over Frank being as bitter as the coffee. 

“The bed was cold this morning,” he said, fingers shaking at the temperature. Gerard didn't try to answer. His pencil worked better than words, and the way he was still smoothly drawing strokes told Frank his temper wasn't rising. Frank dropped the conversation, knowing Gerard better than that after all those years. 

~

Frank dropped an oak log in the fire, filling the house with merry and bright vibrations. He turned his head and watched Gerard's eyes match the color of the fire, settled on a stained couch and curled around a tortoiseshell blanket. Frank fell back on the old lady rug on the floor. The only reason he’d kept it was that it had been a gift from his grandmother. It had those weird tufts on the end that made Frank feel just the same as he had when he first grabbed a fistful at his grandparents house when he was young. He twirled the tan strings around his fingers and let everything but the crackling fire fade. Reminiscing all the while, he still felt Gerard’s loving gaze rest upon him, making him feel safer, but not doing the slightest to help diminish his loneliness. 

“Why don't you like it when I draw?” he asked, curling up tighter and hoping to retain some heat as the sun officially dropped off the face of the Earth. 

“I do like it when you draw,” Frank reminded him, looking over towards the couch but seeing nothing of his husband. 

“Then what’s wrong, huh? I can tell when you're not feeling well.” What was wrong? He felt alone, surrounded by people who loved him. A house, littered by his childhood, and still nothing interested him. 

“Gee, I don't know. Nothing is feeling right anymore.” 

Gerard kept still, but the earthquake in his eyes tipped the scales from absent minded to mildly concerned. He tried to keep his eyes calm- that’s where Frank always went first. “Do you wanna go back on tour? I’m sure we could work something out, if everyone is up to it,” Gerard suggested, watching Frank not watch him. It was fun to him how a mere three feet of distance felt so much farther than he thought. He supposed it was because words didn't travel in measurements. 

“It’s not that. I do miss tour, but it’s not just that. I feel like there's more but I’m too tired to figure out why to say,” Frank whispered solemnly. He knew he needed sleep, but the dark starry place he rested his mind wasn't too relaxing anymore. He knew it would be colder than lukewarm, and with the painting on the walls, it would be quieter than before. 

“Frankie, come here,” Gerard whispered. 

Frank stared at him for a moment, but left his body exposed on the ratty rug.

“Don't be dramatic. Come here, please,” Gerard pleaded. Frank sighed and sat up, kneeling over to him. Gerard wrapped a hand around Frank's cheek and smiled, trying not to let his eyes give away his worries. Gerard heard the fire crackle in the hearth and the scrape of Frank’s nails against the soft felt on the couch and he broke. 

“We’re still okay though, right?” Gerard asked, running a thumb under his dark eyes. Frank smiled weakly, lips barely curling up at all. Gerard took the hint and kissed his husband gently, speaking in tongues that no one else knew but them. As they spoke, Frank’s stubble scratching against Gerard’s pale skin, they both said,

“We’ll work this out.”

~

The storm that had been condensing the previous evening broke right with the first rays of sunlight breaking through the drapes. The rain belted down like an anthem sung in an empty theatre, because the crackling of the embers in the hearth outsung it. This mid-winter jicker was winter’s curtain call, as spring set foot on the stage.

The blanket had left their upper bodies and now lay by their intertwined feet on the end of the couch. Frank’s arm twitched, he surface of his nails brushing against the old lady rug on the ground, reminding him that he had slept well. Twas the first time he’d woken up in a good mood for a while. 

Gerard’s arm was cold against his waist where it hung. 

With a stir from behind him, the post tour blues that consumed him swam again amongst the dilution of other emotions he reserved for sleep. But the fragility of the unconscious man next to him anchored him into falling back asleep. 

~

“Gee?” he asked after the fire had faded and the house’s temperature finally dropped. Gerard stretched behind him, mumbling words Frank couldn't begin to understand. Gerard’s thin lips made their way onto his neck, and like a chain reaction, Frank smiled.

“Yeah?” he asked, kicking the blanket up higher.

“What do you wanna do today?” Frank rolled onto his other side, catching his husband in a quick kiss before he could respond. 

“Mmm,” Gerard hummed. “I was thinking about working on that sketch. Dreamed up yesterday. I've have enough time to think it over, and I think I like where it’s going. That okay with you?” 

Frank put on a fake smile- oscar worthy. “Yeah, sure. I’m glad you're busy again.” His arms felt weak and useless, lying by his sides bearing the load of a plane. Both were quiet for a moment, each deciding if Frank’s answer was genuine enough. Before Gerard worked up the idea to refute him, Frank stepped in for him.

“As long as we get the damn heating fixed.” Gerard smiled and nodded. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

~

The call to the technician and watching him fix their heater had been fun while it lasted. Not that Frank got even a moment to enjoy it with Gerard, in fact he got a negative amount of time. Gerard deserted him about halfway through the repair job. This little notion hadn't gone unnoticed, especially as Frank sat in his deserted living room, feeling the warmth already spreading to the farthest reaches of the household. It was that he had to feel it alone that bugged him. He made a fair bet that Gerard could feel it in the basement, where he was working so relentlessly. 

All seemed well and prosperous, to a degree, until dinner time came. Frank spent a copious amount of time, beginning in the late afternoon, to prepare a family recipe that now included his new family. A family, he thought. How cool would that be? Gerard’s cliche skeptical glare fell upon his own face, a look he only associated with Gerard. That was a shocker that stung more than burned.

Frank set the table alone, putting out silverware, napkins, plates, the whole shebang. The warm air felt even better with the smell of pasta in it. If only it was enough to draw Gerard out of the basement…

Frank sulked down the stairs, knocking on the old oak door at the bottom. There was a noise from within that sounded somewhat like a muffled “come in” queuing Frank to enter.

An overused paintbrush clasped between his teeth, Gerard smiled and held out a hand.

“I've gert this werd ider abert a villern that ferds erf erv static, rert?” Gerard began, pointing to the canvass with messy hands. Frank burst out laughing, taking Gerard’s pruney hand and scooting closer. 

“I see,” Frank muttered sarcastically, staring blankly at the barely visible sketch on the canvass. Frank wondered how exactly Gerard had gotten all that paint on him if he hadn't even used any. Gerard began another explanative verbal essay, but Frank held out a finger, respectively. 

“I know you love your work and all, but it's dinner time and I'd actually like to spend some time with my husband of three years. Is that too much to ask?” Frank sorely regretted his last sentence as it made him sound a little more bitter than he actually was. Not to say that he wasn't bitter about the earlier desertion because, oh, he was. 

Gerard spat the paint brush out and watched it smear the floor. “Gotcha. Just let me wash up, unless you want your-” he took a whiff of the air. “Spaghetti,” he guessed correctly. “To be multicolored. I guess that would be pretty cool, if the paint wasn't toxic.” Frank took Gerard's hand and smeared the paint all over Gerard’s own face, before bolting up the stairs. 

“Fuck you, Frank!” But all Frank heard was the smile in his tone. 

~

Dinner was, at the bare minimum, a success. The food was almost as good as the conversation. 

“I can't make it like my mom, but I don't think I inherited all the cooking genes anyway.” Gerard snorted into his food, and a moment later, a string of spaghetti came out his nose. 

“This is like Lady and the Tramp but worse,” Gerard commented, stroking his full stomach and trying not to explode. Then it was Frank's turn to laugh. He choked on his meal and had to excuse himself to avoid spitting his spaghetti all over the table from laughing. 

“Jesus, Gee,” Frank laughed from the kitchen. “You crack me up even after I spent a day alone.” Frank smacked himself internally because he really didn't understand why he couldn't just keep his damn mouth shut. 

“Are you ever going to stop griping about me doing what I want to every once and awhile?” Gerard asked lightheartedly. Frank sat back down at the table, using his napkin to hide his unsettling expression. 

“Are you ever going to stop leaving me alone? I don't mind what you do, I really don't. I’m just going through some stuff and it would be nice to have someone around. Particularly the man I married,” Frank huffed. Gerard did that little thing where you gasp but ever so silently as to not let anyone know you were taken by surprise- the kind that everyone always hears. 

“Frank, two days ago you were whining about being bored and not having anything to do. You were practically begging me to do something productive, and now that I am, you're unhappy! What the fuck am I doing wrong?” Gerard asked, trying not to yell, because he really didn’t like to. 

“I’m usually unhappy. And it's got nothing to do with you.”

“What?” Gerard paused, leaving space for the silence to absorb what he honestly couldn't. “Well, what do you want? Do you wanna take a break? Is that it?” 

“No! I'm happy with you, Gee. With you.” 

“I've got things to do too, you know,” Gerard snapped. 

“I know! It's not that…” Frank trailed off. The heater buzzed in the background, the wind whipping at the outside walls, the oven still humming pleasantly from the beginning of a meal that hadn't turned out so pleasant. He put his face in his hands.

“Frankie… You're scaring me. What is it?” Gerard hadn't looked nervous for a long time. He hadn't had a reason to. Both took a deep breath, dropping all criticisms and feeling a little more raw than expected. 

“It's just… It's so quiet when you're painting. And I know you're happy with what you're doing and I can't, or want to take that away from you, but I'm just… I'm all alone.” Gerard hadn't meant for it to get like this- perhaps the basement wasn't the best place to work, or maybe it was just that after so much time touring together non-stop, he needed a little break. Neither seemed to satisfy the feeling of want in the room.

“We could… I dunno, get a pet or something,” Gerard suggested. Frank shook his head, mourning the idea. “I think that’s the first time in your life that you’ve ever turned down a dog.”

Sure, it would've been nice, but Frank could tell that want what he was really after. It had been so long, so boring, being just another happy couple on the block, living away their young years on tour, and yes, they were still young, but Frank didn't want to feel young anymore. Touring felt more like a religion, and even if you practice it every day, only Sunday’s are reserved for ceremony. Sundays became rare for Frank, and the longer they lasted, the more he missed them Monday morning. 

Just as there was a solution to missing tour out there, there was a solution to being lonely, and in his head, heart, and everywhere else, he realized. Apart from the skies, everything became clear. Frank looked his husband in his eyes, delving deeper and looking into his heart, as the light began to pepper the floors. 

“I want a kid.”

“Oh.”

Bitter, terrified blues sang through the room, filling up their ears with a sharp ringing, versus the soft humming of the oven and heater. The staring contest again communicated more words than were actually spoken. 

“Frank, that’s…” Gerard took a shaky breath. There was no good way to go about this conversation without sounding biased one way or another. “That’s a big deal…”

“I know,” he replied, sounding just as shocked than Gerard was. As he held his ground, Frank’s mind dropped off the face of the Earth. There was too much to think about. He felt like he was back in High School all over again. Too much to think about, not enough time or resources. Gerard fumbled upright, eyes hazy with thought. His hands acted as a walking stick, directing him to his lost-at-sea husband. His hip clicked against the side of the table, knocking his delusions out of him. 

His silver ring was smooth against his finger, and the vein running straight to his heart was still pumping, and he was still breathing, and he was definitely still in love. 

With that knowledge backing Gerard up, he crouched down and took his husband’s hand gently. The only sound acknowledgeable was the gentle click of their rings, and the buzzing of the oven. Not more than a minute had passed since Frank last spoke, but the amount of thinking and worrying and nail biting fear that had hit both of them like a car took at least three years off of their lives. A silver lining formed, as it always does. They didn't need to think about it anymore. 

“Let's take a few. Come back to it,” Gerard whispered, kissing Frank’s ring just lightly enough or not promise anything in either direction. 

“Come back to it when?” Frank asked, checking all the boxes. Gerard began to realize how serious Frank was. The way he burst out earlier made it seem rash and just another attention getter, but Frank was holding his ground with equal determination. 

“After a movie?” Gerard suggested. Frank broke out into that certain smile that hadn't surfaced since the last song of their first night on their last tour. The kind that said “it's the end of the beginning”. A little bit backwards, but Gerard thought that sometimes, when you hold things a little differently they seem a whole lot better. 

“Only if we don't watch some shitty film like the Notebook. I'm not ready to be that lame yet.” 

Gerard smiled back. 

~

“Frank, I get it that you're anxious and impatient and needy and have literally nothing else to do but-” 

“Why don't you just shut up and paint,” Frank cracked. Gerard scoffed and turned back to his easel. There were a few moments of silence that drifted to and fro pleasantly. 

“Unless you’d give me something to do…” Frank whined, looking up from his phone. Gerard set his paintbrush down. 

“Like what kind of thing?” he asked, wiping his hands off. Frank shot up and sauntered closer, Gerard’s face lighting up. 

“Like…” Frank leaned in and hovered half a centimeter from Gerard's lips. “Doing some God damn research!” he yelped, shoving his phone into Gerard's hands. Gerard rolled his eyes dramatically and turned away before Frank even finished speaking. 

“Frankie, I know you're impatient. I've lived with you for, like, four years. And I know that you're totally sure about this, but it takes time. Do you even know how long it-”

“A year to eighteen months,” Frank interrupted. Gerard gave him a pitying look. “And you would know that if you did some research,” Frank griped. Gerard let out a sad laugh, and buried his face in Frank's neck. Gerard felt a little nudge by his hip and didn't need his eyes to know that it was Frank's phone.

“Fucking, you know what? Fine. C’mon.” Gerard dragged Frank over to the ratty couch. Frank dropped like a stone, and Gerard fell right on top of him. Struggling like a stick in the mud, Frank wiggled around just enough to make room for his computer, which fit nicely in between Gerard’s shoulders. There were a few moments of silence while Frank logged in, like he hadn't been scrolling around the web all day. 

“How long has your password been ‘Gee-stop-being-a-prick’?” Gerard asked, looking up at him. He didn't look offended, per say, more like amused and oddly cocky. Frank flared up, beet red shooting up his neck and into his cheeks.

“When you started being a prick,” Frank mumbled defensively. Gerard shrugged and turned away, looking back to the laptop that was slowly waking up. The spinning wheel of death appeared and Gerard buried his face in the neck of Frank. Frank pressed a kiss on the top of his head and drummed his fingers along his stomach. Gerard took a quick leap and tilted his head, using his lips to explore Frank’s neck. Not even this managed to distract Frank from his mission. As the wheel reverted back to a mouse and the drumming turned to clicking as Frank begin to type into the search bar. 

“Look,” Frank commanded, pulling the laptop closer. Gerard groaned reluctantly and rolled over. On the laptop, there were approximately twenty tabs open, and Gerard made a fair bet that all were adoption related. Or porn. 

“You’re a fucking psycho,” Gerard sighed, tilting the screen down so he could actually read the words. Frank patted his head and sighed. He already knew that. And he watched Gerard’s eyes read each word so carefully, and deep, deep down he got the inkling that maybe there was some hope after all.

***

The next time Frank brought it up was over breakfast the next morning. Gerard was honestly surprised he’d managed to wait a whole twelve hours to revisit his obsession. However, the previous night had proved highly informational in more than one way, and Gerard could, at the bare minimum, hold up a steady conversation and keep it respectable. Unlike Frank, apparently.

“I don’t get the fucking shit over it. Why does it have to take so goddamn long? Like, what’s the rush? It’s some paperwork, I know that, but how in the fucking shit could it take a year and a half? The waiting list can suck my ass, Gerard. Gerard? Are you even listening?” Frank belted out.

“To you argue with yourself? Oh yeah, of course,” he replied sarcastically. Frank gave him a death glare and went back to his breakfast.

“Hey!” Gerard shouted, trying to hold back a mounting smile. “Keep your bad vibes out of my corn flakes!” Frank picked up his bowl of cereal and stormed away, sticking his tongue out as he spun away, spilling milk from his bowl all over the floor. Gerard cracked a pitiful smile.

“Why do we need a child when we have you?” he asked, stirring his soggy concoction of fruit loops and corn flakes absentmindedly. As if on cue, Frank whirled back around, spilling yet more milk onto the tiles and raising a finger pointedly.

“We need a child because when you’re off painting your fucking corn flakes I’m-” Gerard held out a finger as he pulled out his phone. Frank put his hand on his hip and stared at his husband in disbelief. Gerard typed for a moment while chewing, clicked a button and put his phone down, all whilst sporting the most vile grin ever.

“You were saying?” And then Frank melted. He sat back down across from Gerard and slumped over his cereal morosely. Gerard wasted none of his time fawning over Frank pouting, and instead went about his breakfast perfectly normally. Until, that was, Frank didn’t just get over it. 

“Aww, c’mon, Frank. You knew that was a joke-”

“Do you want to have a kid? Be honest.” If Gerard was suddenly allowed to interrupt, then so was he. Gerard shut his opened mouth, thought for a quick second, and opened it again.

“Yeah, I guess, in the future. It was just… sudden, y’know? I wasn’t ready for it,” he replied, running a hand through his hair and taking a breather from his second bowl of corn flakes/fruit loops. 

Frank nodded. “Do you think you’ll ever be ready?” 

Gerard sighed and scooped up another spoonful of his colorful and sickeningly sweet concoction. He pulled a strand of hair out of his face before shoving the spoon in his mouth and making a face. Frank raised an eyebrow and watched this strange behavior. He should’ve gotten used to it, but Gerard always surprised him. 

“I’ll be ready when I get a decent breakfast worked out.”

~

While Frank was completely convinced that was indeed the shittiest criteria ever, he was delighted to see Gerard making a considerable effort over the next few weeks to improve his breakfast mixture. Even if it did take heinously long. As long as it worked for Gerard, it worked for him. It worked for him because of the added bonus that their shared computer’s search history showed more and more adoption agencies in the history than Frank could personally account for. 

It wasn’t until one day, about a month from when he’d first announced he wanted a kid in their home, that he woke up to some odd and so very heart wrenching words.

He turned over in his bed, which was lopsided from the weight on only half the bed. Instinctively, he groaned, as the two had agreed not to get up without the other unless it was urgent. The initial anger subsiding, he sat up as a light bulb appeared. Maybe Gerard was ready, he thought cheerfully. The door to their bedroom was cracked just a tiny bit, only letting a small sliver of light in. A sliver like the moon, Frank realized. 

There was no sunlight coming through the window, the case was nearly the opposite. The moon was dimly irradiating the night sky, along with a million bullet holes for stars. Frank ran a hand through his messy hair and sat back down on the bed. His next guess would’ve been that it was just a bathroom run, but the amount of light coming from the hallway disagreed with him. 

“What the fuck, Gee,” he sighed, standing back up and scuffling into his slippers. His oversized pajama pants sagged by his hips leaving just enough for the imagination. He peeked his nose out into the bright corridor before exposing the rest of himself to the light. With a creak, a second exasperated sigh, and a few joints clicking, he emerged. At three-thirty in the morning. 

The rug was left in bunches where Frank grew too lazy to actually lift his feet off the carpet. There was even a chip in the paint on the wall from his fingernail scraping along the side for dramatic effect. It was that sort of day- or really, that time of night. 

Naturally, Gerard was in the kitchen, with bowls everywhere and more than a few five pound bags of cereal on the dining room table. The mail had clearly been removed from the surface of the table, as it was now acting as an interpretative rug piece. Frank tripped over a collection of milk jugs that was arranged like bowling pins. He made a very disgruntled little yelp, which raked Gerard out of his trance-like state. Frank sent him a warning look.

“I made the perfect breakfast!” he yelped, jumping around on the table for emphasis. Frank took longer than a person with his intelligence should’ve to understand this. He shrugged, but mid-way through his shrug, he figured it out. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped to the floor.

“Does this- Are you- we-” he stopped, unable to breathe. “Are we gonna have a kid?” His voice came out high and squeaky, and he sounded like he was about to cry. Gerard tapped his chin a few times and looked up at the ceiling like a Sim who was thinking about the meaning of life. Gerard broke character with a runway smile.

“If that’s what you want!” And then Frank started crying for real.

***

After Frank had buried his face in his husband’s collar and sobbed for a good ten minutes, until he decided he was feeling far too many emotions for sleep to still be on the table. Gerard shoved the bags of cereal off the table, they were tied closed, luckily, and sat Frank down next to him. Frank hadn’t stopped smiling even through the tears.

“Where d-did you even f-find the-” his voice cracked and he fell right back into a silent sobbing fest. 

Gerard put a warm hand on his back and rubbed in circles, smiling sweetly.

“There’s an all night liquor store not too far down the road. It’s got some neat shit,” Gerard said quietly. Frank looked up, wiped his eyes and sniffled.

“I didn’t kn-know cereal could make me so emotional,” he laughed, bitterly. Gerard giggled and that was all it took for Frank to fling his arms back around him. His husband’s shirt was already damp with fresh tears. Soon enough, it would be a mop. It was ratty enough, Frank thought. 

“I l-love you so much,” he huffed, trying to catch his breath that was coming and leaving in bursts. Gerard let the bliss of the oncoming tidal wave blow through him and he shut his eyes with a smile he felt in his soul.

“I love you too.”

~

Somehow, over the course of Frank’s obsession over having the perfect adoption experience, he’d dragged Gerard into his hysteria somewhere along the way. Dragged him a little too far…

“Gerard, I have as much concern for all of this as you do, but I don’t think you need to spend so much time worrying about picking the right agency. It’s more about finding the right kid,” Frank said, squeezing him from the side. Gerard grumbled and continued to scroll on the computer. The lucky part about both partners being equally invested was that, at any given time, one was doing normal things like eating organized meals and getting an average amount of sleep. This would keep the other from going completely overboard with their search. 

“Yeah, Frankie. I know,” he replied, clearly agitated. Frank’s stubborn ass did not contend well with Gerard’s quick dismissal. He grabbed the computer and swapped it onto his own lap, despite Gerard’s complaints. He didn’t even hear them anymore.

The list seemed to go on and on, listing agency after agency with their respected websites. Both pairs of eyes watched Frank work. Every few moments, he’d make a strike through on an agency here or there, and he intended to keep going until there was only one left. 

“There are a lot more than I thought there were,” Gerard sighed, leaning back on the couch. Frank snorted.

“Yeah, no kidding. There’s like… a trillion. But I’ll find the one, Gee. It’s in there, and I’ll fuckin find it.” Gerard let out a small laugh and shifted onto his side, resting his head closer to Frank’s. No matter how inconspicuous Frank tried to be, his teenage blush gave him away each time. 

This time was different, because Frank had a plan and that plan was not going to get interrupted by his husband staring at him and kissing his neck and tugging at his shirt and oh shit, maybe it was.

***

“We’re never going to get this done if you keep distracting me,” Frank whined, towelling himself off gingerly. Gerard giggled from their bedroom and Frank decided that was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard. He wrapped his towel around his waist and began to dig through the mysterious pile of clothes that was in the corner. 

“Hey, Frankie!” Gerard shouted from the other room. Frank dropped what he was doing and sprinted to the doorway. Gerard flipped the laptop that was already on his lap again around, like he was expecting Frank to read the small words from halfway across the room. 

“What about this one?” 

Frank, who definitely couldn’t read the fine print, grinned.

Gerard beckoned him over, patting a space on the bed next to him. Frank cannonballed onto the bed, ending in blankets everywhere, computer going flying, and laughter above everything else. When things finally calmed down, Gerard began his torrent, funded by Frank’s- albeit sarcastic -attention. Down the rabbit hole they went, Gerard speaking nonsense and Frank listening just to hear Gerard speak.

“Okay, besides the fact that this could take up to a year and a half, what do you think? The reviews are great, the fees are on the lower end, and it’s got support. It’s got everything we want,” Gerard concluded, after a long and worthwhile spiel about the agency. Frank blinked slowly and sat up slowly.

“Is the word ‘agency’ even real?” he asked, and Gerard was pretty sure he was serious. Frank opened his mouth to go on some rant about words that would probably rival Pretty. Odd. for sounding so drugged, but Gerard stopped him.

“Does that mean you like it?” he asked, just to clarify. Frank rubbed his head and made a real effort not to look as nauseated as he felt. This was taking an unexpected toll on him. He took a deep breath and nodded. Gerard felt a sense of relief settle over him like a snow cloud. It wasn’t sad and rainy, but it was still a cloud. He supposed he just felt… cloudy.

“Alright,” Gerard settled it with a kiss on the cheek. “First things first, we need a social worker. I’ll get in touch-”

“Nope!” Frank burst in. Gerard stared at him, heart beating quickly from the sudden eruption. 

“We’ll get in touch,” Frank corrected him. Gerard let out a long sigh that summed up his emotions pretty damn well.

“That’s what I fucking meant, Frank,” he let his head hit the headboard and he smiled. Frank noticed there had been a lot of that going on lately. The smiling, the tiredness, the lazy, humid love. That just meant they were going in the right direction. 

//

“Fucking shit! It’s eleven-thirty, Frank! She’s gonna be here any minute!” Gerard shrieked, kicking the remainder of the lettuce he’d spilled under the fridge. The buzzing from the living room didn’t evaporate as Frank shouted over it. 

“I’m not done vacuuming, though!” There was a crash. “I’m fine!” he screamed, as the buzzing stopped. 

Gerard sent a nervous look over his shoulder as he slammed glasses in the cupboards. He rashly dried the last glass and reached up, but it slipped out of his hand and shattered into a million pieces on the tile. He reached down to pick up the shards, but lost his balance on the wet floor. His hand shot down, trying to stop himself from getting a face-full of glass right before their interview, and instead received a palm-full of glass.

“Jesus fucking shit!” was all he could manage before leaping back, feeling a little woozy at the sight of blood. 

“Frank!” he screamed, fumbling with the spigot. There were pounding footsteps, an abrupt stop and a gasp. Frank bolted back to the hallway, pulled on a pair of tough-soled shoes and ran back. He grabbed a towel off the rack and shoveled the glass delicately onto his covered palm. He rushed back over to the trash, dumped the load, and dropped the towel on the counter, all whilst Gerard was hissing a slew of curse words. Frank slowly walked over, like a little kid looking down upon a crime scene. 

“Gee…” he whispered, getting a closer look at his palm. There was a good sized piece of glass sticking straight into his palm, and only little smears or red were going down the drain now. It wasn’t much larger than a toothpick, but it sure did a lot of damage. 

“Gee, you need to pull it out,” he said, putting a hand on his lower back and trying not to flinch at the puncture. Gerard nodded and cleared his throat, trying not to cry.

“I know. Can you?” he asked quietly, pulling his shaking hand out from under the water. Frank didn’t want anything to do with the hole in his hand, but his love outweighed his fear.

“What am I here for?” he asked, taking Gerard’s dripping hand lightly. Gerard smiled weakly as he clenched his jaw and looked away. Frank reached forward and yanked the little thing out of his hand with one good yank.

Gerard then recited his own version of Family Reunion by Blink 182. Frank laughed all the while. Gerard bandaged himself up, with those special band aids that have ointment in them and everything. And he glared while Frank laughed. 

“Suck a dick, Frank,” Gerard mumbled, patting down his hand, poking and prodding to see what hurt the most. Frank shook his head, eyes beyond watering up from smiling. Gerard kicked him under the table, jabbing his forefinger into his palm and shrieking. Frank slipped off his chair (flipping it over) and grunted as he hit the ground, not wasting any time before laughing again. Gerard flipped him off, kicking him harder.

The doorbell rang.

Frank made eye contact with Gerard from the floor. Gerard shot right out of his chair, which also fell over and probably broke, judging the noise it made when it hit the ground. Gerard strutted over to the door, keeping eye contact all the while.

“Compose yourself,” he hissed. Frank shot up and flung himself into the living room, the chairs left deserted. The door was nearly ripped off its hinges from the force Gerard used to brutally open it, and his hand sure seemed to mind. 

At the door, stood a young woman with blonde hair that was dark at the roots and shimmering blue eyes. While her outfit was businessly, her sleeves were most definitely covering up tattoos, something Gerard noticed immediately. He was sure Frank would cut her some slack, just for that. He was very appreciative of people who sported the same “goods” as himself. White clothes do a shit job at just about everything, something Frank had learned over the years. 

“Hi, I’m Laurie! I’ll be your social-worker. Are you,” she looked at her ominous clipboard. “Gerard or Frank?” 

“Gerard,” he smiled sweetly, extending his good hand. She shook his hand firmly, but not rough enough to make it weird. Gerard moved to the side, allowing her entrance to the house.

“Please come in,” he said politely, trying not to let his voice shake. Laurie smiled brightly and stepped in. She talked as she followed Gerard to the living room.

“Are you nervous?” she blatantly asked. Gerard, who didn’t know how to react to the sudden question, answered before his brain could tell him to shut up. 

“Definitely,” he heaved. 

Laurie smiled and chuckled. “Most are.”

Gerard gave her a small, appreciative smile, and stepped aside to give her the full effect of the wide berth into the living room. Frank was already waiting on one of the chairs, which he had positioned in a sort of therapist’s office way. Two chairs were facing the couch, the other Gerard was clearly made to sit in, but Laurie got there first. She shook Frank’s hand while he introduced himself and Gerard stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Maybe this was some tactic for her to get to know them, or maybe she was just oblivious, but either way, the room got a whole lot quieter with her like that. Gerard took a seat on the couch and crossed his legs, tucking his body as close to himself as he could without looking uncomfortable. Her clip board was still intimidating him. 

“Before we get started, do either of you have any questions? Sometimes people have some things they’d like to clarify, so feel free to ask at any time. I’m here to help,” she explained, sounding much kinder than before. It eased the stress in the room just a little, and that made all the difference. 

“Yeah, um,” Gerard cleared him throat. “Just wondering if the fact that we’re gay has any sort of.. Impact?” Laurie smiled sympathetically.

“Honey, this might not be San Francisco, but it’s still no Westboro. You’ve got just the same odds as any other capable couple.” Gerard, at that very moment, decided that she was going to work out just fine with them. With him, at least. He couldn’t speak for Frank, who was a human attack dog. 

“So, let’s start of casual. How long have you two been together?” she asked, clicking her pen. Once, twice, thrice, four times. 

“We got together in… ‘05? Maybe ‘04. It was a while ago, but I still remember the first date,” Frank smiled across the room like a ray of sunshine. Even Laurie smiled at it.

“Yeah, but we’ve been married for three years,” Gerard finished for him. Frank wasn’t paying attention to anyone but Gerard anymore, which was a little ironic to Gerard.

“Lovely. I’m glad to see you two haven’t lost any spirit. And how about problems- ever had any?” she asked gently, because of course they had problems- what couple doesn’t- but theirs were so very minor in the grand scheme of things. 

“Yeah, sometimes. He likes to paint a whole lot, which leaves me with nothing to do sometimes, but that’s not too abundant.” Frank finally turned back to address Laurie formally. Even if it was just to trash-talk Gerard.

“He likes to scream along to some music on Sunday mornings when I’m trying to eat breakfast. That’s not always too pleasant,” Gerard remarked. Laurie’s eyes brightened like she was about to ask about the music, but she caught herself. Staying professional, she cleared her throat, trying not to sound too excited. She crossed her legs and made a few scribbles on the margins of her paper, which Frank tried to read out of the corner of his eye.

“Are you two religious? What, if any, beliefs do you two support?”

“I was raised catholic, I went to a catholic high school, yada, yada, yada. Currently, I don’t, nor does Gee, really, spend much time with religion. Occasionally we’ll do a prayer of some sorts before dinner, but mostly just with relatives,” Frank said, rolling up his sleeves while he spoke as though subconsciously trying to remind his mother how much he’d veered away from her ideals. His tattoos still looked just as fresh as when he’d gotten them. Gerard tried not to smirk, and itched his nose as a distraction. 

“Oh my goodness, what happened to your hand?” Laurie yelped, jumping in her own skin. Gerard looked at his hand like it was the first time he’d seen it all day. It even took him a moment to remember what did happen to his hand. 

“Oh! I was putting glasses away and I dropped one. Just a little piece of glass, no big deal. All cleaned up now,” he replied, smiling brightly. Luckily, that was enough to deter her for the time being. She looked back over her clipboard opposedly, and her eyes moved in such a fashion it seemed it took her multiple tries to get the words to register. 

“W-What do you two do, as a profession? I feel like I know you two from somewhere,” Laurie asked, shaking herself off. She scribbled something down before looking at Gerard intently and honestly. 

“There’s, like, a doctor-patient confidentiality thing, right?” Frank asked, picking at the hem of the blanket draped over the back of the couch. 

“Of course,” Laurie replied, looking intrigued. The tone in which she spoke was very clear in insinuating this had happened before to her. Gerard wondered who she’d met. That would’ve made for an interesting conversation, he thought.

“We’re in… a band,” Frank finished. Laurie nodded along smoothly, not missing a beat.

“Cool! Got a name?” 

“My Chemical Romance.” Laurie, despite her cool manner from just moments ago, froze up. She shook it off seconds later, but her pen still twitched every once and awhile. Oh yeah, Frank thought. She knows us. 

“Interesting,” she said, mocking no real investment in the band. Her foot tapped rapidly. “Now let’s get down to the real nitty gritty. Why do you two think you’d make good parents?”

Frank pounced first. “I think that, between our different personalities, we’d be able to raise a child to be well rounded, with all the support they’ll need. We aren't in any financial stretch, our home life is good, and there's loads of good schools in the area. But… that’s not the point. The fact is, I have siblings, Gerard has a brother,”

“Mikey,” she filled in the blank. Laurie went sheet white while Gerard burst out laughing. After a few failed attempts to contain his giggle fit, he to excused himself as his lack of control denied the setting a peaceful return. 

“Like I said,” Frank giggled. “We’ve grown up around kids, and we’ll have all the help we need between Mikey, and our relatives.” Laurie gave him a mellow but quietly proud smile and continued down her list.

“Keeping in mind your professions, how do you two feel you would be able to provide for your child? What sort of steps would you take to make sure your child is getting the best life possible?” Gerard’s footsteps echoed down the hall, his shadow entering and his physical being not that far behind. Frank let Gerard take that one.

He leaned against the wall and thought for a moment. “I think that, between my art and his music, this kid will have an open ended trip to an art school free of charge. I know sometimes being a musician can be spastic, a little unreliable sometimes, but we’ve got all we need. There’s a roof over our heads, money in the bank, two loving, caring adults who would give their souls for any kid, and that’s just about all you need, right?” he replied. He looked to Frank for reassurance, but Frank’s eyes were too clouded with emotions for him to be able to relate any message through staring. The smile said enough.

“What would you do about touring? I need to cover all the bases.” Gerard hadn’t thought about that. Thank God for Frank.

“Well,” he cleared his throat and tried to nonchalantly wipe his eyes. “Like he said, we’d do anything for this kid, if there is one, and I think we’ll work it out. Gee’s mom has come along on the road for multiple trips before and I’m sure she could watch her just until we finished playing or doing whatever we were doing. We’d still spend the majority of the time we have with her together. I’d never dream of leaving her at home.” 

“Her?” Laurie asked. Frank turned beet red from ear to cheek and began stuttering out some answer that, when put together into a sentence, did not make any sense. Laurie giggled and waved the mishap away with the turn of her hand.

“It’s fine. Happens all the time, I can assure you,” she turned over her paper and began to read aloud, “Over the course of the next few weeks, I will make semi-frequent visits to your house, scheduled ahead of time at your availability. These are not to make inspections of your home, but to make sure everything’s in order. Only one of these visits must be at your house, but since we’re already here, I guess we’ve already completed step one. Congrats!” Laurie smiled wide and made jazz hands, even with her clipboard in one of them. Gee giggled a little from to doorway where he was still slouched against the wall.

“I will need a federal-issued copy of your birth certificates, marriage certificate, and I must check that neither of you have committed any crimes punishable by law. This may take longer than expected, but bare with me here. Anything you two want to ask before I wrap this up?” she finalized. The silence stayed strong, and in the absence of anything more to discuss, Laurie got to her feet. Frank instantly bounded up to shake her hand once more.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling even wider than before, if that was at all possible. His heart felt so far past warmed, it was bordering overcooked; a general giddiness helping him through the last moments of their acquaintance. 

“No problem. Just shoot me an email for the next meeting date. I look forward to it!” 

Positioned on the other side of the room, Gerard walked Laurie to the door, once Frank had finally let her go. He reached for the door trying to ignore the little bouts of vertigo he was experiencing. The best guess he could offer was the obvious- he was taking the first steps down a long and rocky road. As a chill rush of the mid-spring breeze made his nose turn pink, Laurie walked away.

“I hope you hand feels better,” Laurie commented, stopping on the first step.

 

“Thanks,” Gerard mumbled, and was left feeling more electrocuted than electrified by the meeting. He watched Laurie hop into her car and drive away, staying in the open doorway for as long as possible. Frank joined him, wrapping his arm around Gerard’s side.

 

“We’re gonna have a kid,” Frank whispered meekly, leaving one to wonder if it was just the nippy air outside turning his cheeks white as a sheet. Gerard tipped his head to the side, resting it on top of Frank’s, and sighed. He was too tired to explain it wasn’t definite yet, and they still had more downs than ups ahead, and that suited him just fine. Just as the sun burned bright even in the coldest evenings, the fire in their heart burned just as warm.

“Let’s light a fire,” Frank whispered, as though it had some symbolic meaning to the two of them. Gerard turned to face him just for the sole purpose of giving him a nod. Frank watched at the light bounced off his eyes, making them twinkle in the evening glow. 

Frank leaned up and placed his lips onto his husbands’, delicately holding both his hands. It was a road, sure, but it was a road they were going to go down together. There was no other way.


End file.
